


Six Minutes

by CodenameAntarctica



Series: Beyond the shallow ground [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: From Sex to Love, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodenameAntarctica/pseuds/CodenameAntarctica
Summary: Spoilers for chapter 88!!"Think you can help me get some sleep tonight?“, Fei Long had asked, his voice quiet as usual, almost lost in the noise of the bartender mixing drinks for some customers who had settled themselves into a corner of the small bar – but not too faint to be overheard or misunderstood by Mikhail.Six minutes is the walk from the little bar in Lan Kwai Fong to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. Six minutes that might have been the longest of Mikhail Arbatov's life.
Relationships: Mikhail Arbatov/Liu Fei Long
Series: Beyond the shallow ground [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033884
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reve_13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reve_13/gifts), [Akhimy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akhimy/gifts), [Sherry_CS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherry_CS/gifts), [LisuliaH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisuliaH/gifts), [Carlatreca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carlatreca/gifts), [LadyLigeia07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLigeia07/gifts), [FayeC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayeC/gifts), [Myrkalfar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrkalfar/gifts).



> Thanks to Reve_13 for information on Hong Kong!!

„Think you can help me get some sleep tonight?“, Fei Long had asked, his voice quiet as usual, almost lost in the noise of the bartender mixing drinks for some customers who had settled themselves into a corner of the small bar – but not too faint to be overheard or misunderstood by Mikhail. Yet he wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly. It would have been easy to blame his mind for playing tricks on him. To shrug it aside as daydreams forcing their way into his sleep-deprived brain. But then again… hadn’t Fei Long just told him, that he had come to this place seeking _his_ company? _His_! That alone had almost made Mikhail lose all cool and would have had him throw himself at the incomparable beauty at his side, if he hadn’t been sure that the other man would never suffer it – that he would rather serve him with a kick in the face in return.

_Nevertheless…._

He swallowed hard on the sip of Bourbon he had forgotten in his mouth, and it burned in his throat; found himself staring at the row of glasses and bottles glimmering in the low light above the shelves.

Forcing the burn down with an inaudible grunt, he managed to lift his gaze. Fei Long was still looking at him out of the corner of his eye, without any mocking showing on his face, leaning his forehead onto the back of his hand. In the drinking glass the Bourbon glowed golden and yet lost any magnificence next to the man’s raven black hair. Obviously he was waiting for an answer, which he knew all along.

Mikhail drew in air that suddenly felt cold to a chest in which his heartbeat was kindling an inferno. Heat shot to his face when he downed the last of the Bourbon to finally find his voice: “My hotel is just around the corner.”

And the dream wasn’t bursting, reality did not come crashing down on him mocking him because he had fallen for unattainable visions so easily. Fei Long just emptied his own glass.

“Good”, the Chinese said, and stood up.

The next six minutes might have been the longest of Mikhail’s life. They left the bar, pulling jacket and cloak close to their bodies as the chilly night air attacked them, and the Russian led the way with Fei Long never less than a step behind, walking next to him most of the time. Not a single word did they speak, but though Mikhail had tried to not show his impatience by walking too fast, he soon realized that both of them kept speeding up. He would have broken into a run, if he hadn’t feared that it would make him look silly and juvenile.

Instead, he focused onto the road ahead, onto each step, onto the silent draws of breath he could hear from Fei Long and how in the cold air white ghosts formed in front of both their faces whenever they exhaled. Sometimes above the rooftops the IFC came into view, towering above Hong Kong’s Central District, it’s crown - with Baishe’s HQ and Fei Long’s private apartment - burning through the low ceiling of clouds. If the man at his side wondered why Mikhail had chosen a hotel just a minutes’ walk away from his basis, then he never mentioned it, and Mikhail did not manage to force his eyes to meet Fei Long’s. He was too afraid that anything but striding forward towards their goal would break the spell, would make the Chinese beauty reconsider.

But even when the Mandarin Oriental Hotel finally came into sight, Fei Long did not fall back a single step, nor did he when they entered through the large glass doors, greeted by some butler, or when Mikhail called the elevator with some finger that felt numb from the cold – and from his blood boiling its way into other places of his body.

Maybe due to the late night no one else entered the elevator, but when the doors closed, Mikhail still hadn’t managed to convince the control to go up to the 20th floor. He punched the button again and again, making it light up for a moment and then get dark again. He was a moment short of smashing it with his fist – while a lot of the blood he had missed in his fingers seemed to suddenly rush to his head – when he remembered that he needed to use his room’s key card to unlock the control first. With a gasp he fished it out of his jacket’s pocket, pushed it in front of the control and when he poked the number 20 again it lit up and finally the elevator started to move.

Still Mikhail kept the key card in front of the control – just in case -, realizing how much his fingers now trembled and that he had kept the breath in his throat. He exhaled, blinking at the golden display of floors climbing to higher numbers, when Fei Long moved: He raised one hand to his lips, covering them, and faintly, nearly inaudible underneath the quiet Jazz, that was played to sooth anybody who used the elevator, Mikhail was sure to hear a chuckle.

It made his heart ache. Ache, because he was not sure if Fei Long laughed _at_ him, thinking him stupid, deciding that he would allow Mikhail to step out of the elevator and then punch ‘L’ for ‘Lobby’ to get out of there as soon as possible… or if he had laughed _because_ of him. If _he_ – if _Mikhail_ – had indeed made him laugh…

When the doors opened into an empty, well-lit and poshly decorated corridor, the Russian still wasn’t sure. He had to force himself to step forward, to get out, to walk onto the dark red carped in front leaving the man - who tumbled all his mind and body into turmoil - in the elevator which could steal him away so easily. And he did not dare to turn around until the doors had closed, knowing that now it was too late – whether Fei Long was still there or whether he had taken the lift back down – now Mikhail would go to his room.

The card at the ready he turned to the right, walking past other doors, listening into the silence of the hotel’s late night, twisting his eyes whenever they passed one of those pieces of art shielded by panels of glass that barely gave a reflection, pricking his ears to the footsteps on the thick carpet – and learning that he was not alone. That Fei Long was still there.

Finally, the right door stood before him and he once again pushed the key card in front of a small control device. Innocently a small green light lit up but the clicking of the lock nearly made Mikhail jump, nonetheless. He cleared his throat to what he was sure could have been a fit of panic if he hadn’t pulled himself together. Then he opened the door and held it for Fei Long to enter.

Pushing the key card into another control – a small slit on the wall – made all the lamps in the room light up dimly and started the air conditioner which sang along in a low and faint hum.

The Chinese man entered by only a few steps, taking in the sight of the king size bed, the extravagant, coffered ceiling, the exquisite linens and the view from the large windows, while he took off his cloak, neatly hanging it onto the wardrobe, then repeating the task with his scarf and the dark grey jacket of his 3-piece-suit ensemble. All the while in the warm light of the room the liquid midnight which was his hair danced on his shoulders and each movement of his lashes was like the fluttering of a raven’s wings through the air. Then he turned his head, only slightly, once again looking at the Russian only out of the corner of his eye.

And at that moment every strength and restraint Mikhail had ever been able to force onto himself broke. He slammed the door shut behind himself, discarded off his jacket within a second and flung himself unto the other man, catching Fei Long’s lips with his own.


	2. Part 2

Crushing himself against the other man, Mikhail forced his tongue through lips that put up no sign of resistance. He caught Fei Long with one arm around the waist, pulling him so close he could feel every inch of his body through the thin layers of fabric between their skins. He could even feel every button of the waistcoat.

In desperate need to get rid of all of those obstacles, he started to fumble with Fei Long’s tie only to find that the Chinese had pulled it loose already, all the while pressing forward, forcing the other man to take one step backwards after the other, until they finally reached the bed and only a little push was needed to make them both tumble over. Even in falling their lips did not part, and Fei Long started to suck on Mikhail’s tongue as to make sure that he didn’t get away. When they hit the mattress one infinite second later, Mikhail landed on top of Fei Long, and his weight pushed the air out of the Chinese’s lungs into the other’s throat. Mikhail gasped on it and yet did not break the kiss.

Still no resistance came from Fei Long, no hesitance, no attempt to push the Russian away. Instead, his fingers wound themselves around the other man’s which pinned his right hand to the bed, while his other fist clawed itself into the back of Mikhail’s shirt, making sure he would not get away. And Mikhail just had to push his lips harder onto the other’s, forcing his tongue deeper inside, insisting that the holy hotness of Fei Long’s mouth was his and his alone to explore and to conquer.

For a while there was nothing but that and only for seconds did Mikhail allow himself to open his eyes, his lashed as long as the other man’s, so that they nearly grazed each other’s skin with it. He could drink in this sight forever: Fei Long with closed eyes and blushed cheeks beneath him, an inch away, the hotness of his skin burning Mikhail’s. He could just lie here, feeling the body writhe beneath him, the fingers ripping at the back of his shirt, the hand entwined with his own, the hardness of his own crotch that pressed against Fei Long’s, and the distinct hardness of the other man pressing back against him.

It was a contest between his mind and conscience and even his fear on the one hand, which just wanted to keep it at that, to be satisfied with feeling Fei Long beneath him, here, now, to kiss him, to taste him – and between every other bit of his body and being on the other hand. A contest which the latter won without surprising him – when the Chinese finally started to stir, freeing the hand from Mikhail’s back and fumbling with the buttons of the waistcoat. To help him, Mikhail broke the kiss and pushed himself up, stripping the vest away, tossing it aside. The he grabbed Fei Long’s shirt and tore it open, ripping the buttons from their threads and tearing the silk. With an even quicker movement he freed himself from the white long-sleeve and cast it aside with even less regard to where it might hit.

“Sorry”, he said, not even surprised how ragged his voice sounded. The blood was now pumping through him in red flames, burning in his chest and groin, sizzling on his cheeks where he felt the first drops of sweat. “I won’t be able to hold back today.”

The words however did nothing to frighten Fei Long. He looked up from the bed onto which the Russians weight was still holding him down. His silken hair spilled onto the white sheets around his head, already disheveled, and Fei Long glanced up at the other man, his eyes darkened, softly panting. Then a smirk formed on his face, his eye narrowed: “Looks like we’re on the same wavelength”, he hissed. “I am also in a foul mood today.”

And with that the pushed Mikhail off from himself with much more strength that his slim body seemed capable of, and onto the bed, rolling himself over him, pinning Mikhail down beneath him. Single strands of black hair fell onto Mikhail’s face, tickling him, while Fei Long’s eyes burned down onto him like a saving hearth in the darkest, coldest, longest night and Mikhail grit his teeth hard and wanted to swallow his tongue to keep himself from spilling his heart. For the truth would tear away all of this, it would evaporate the lust of the moment, would sound foolish where all Fei Long seemed to want was the comfort of the night.

His sinister smile only intensifying, the Chinese beauty leaned down until all Mikhail could see was the midnight-black crown of his hair. But he felt the man’s breath on his skin, burning him from the outside, while the inferno incinerated his insides. He wanted to push Fei Long away, tear off the last bits of clothes that still stood between their skins, taking him – now. But Fei Long held him down with all the force he could muster, and even though Mikhail was sure he could overpower him, he fought for his patience, grinding his teeth and twitching violently when the Chinese man bit his throat hard enough to probably draw a pinch of blood.

Mikhail gasped, tried to break loose but only haphazardly and not with all his strength, because no matter how much he wanted to just fling himself onto Fei Long, he also wanted to know where this was going.

Only a moment later however this already forced him to claw his fingers into the sheets, when the Chinese started to move down his body from his throat, stopping here and there for a moment, kissing his skin, biting and licking on his nipples, nipping on the firm muscles of his abdomen. Mikhail felt himself tremble to every faintest touch, his abs twitching in the struggle to keep his sanity because now he felt how Fei Long’s fingers found their way to the cord of his pants and pulled it open. A moment later the fabric was pushed away, halfway down his thighs, while Fei Long bit the flesh beneath his navel and still moved further down, his warm hands finally resting on his underwear, and Mikhail had to close his eyes. He felt like burning. Like little flames were bursting out of his skin. His muscles contracted heavily a few times, with a chill running through his body at the same time.

When it at last subsided, he managed to open his eyes again, finding Fei Long looking at him with mischievous eyes and an indecent smile. Only then, when he knew he had Mikhail’s full attention, did he pull down the man’s underwear, and the air in the room felt instantly chilly to the Russian’s cock which sprang out upright, already fully erect. The coolness however martered him only for a second. Then Fei Long’s warm hand seized his manhood and his tongue drew along his flesh, slowly and hot. For another moment Mikhail’s eyes squeezed shut, his whole body convulsed heavily with a red light bursting into his mind.

He heard Fei Long chuckle and, clenching on the sheets with hurting fists, he managed to look up again. The head of his dick was crowned by little drops of cum, but the Chinese beauty still smiled at him with that sinister look and a moment later he leaned forward, catching Mikhail’s cock with his lips and forcing it deep into his mouth.

“Ngh…” pressed from between gritted teeth as Mikhail watched the Chinese beauty sucking his manhood, one of his hands stroking the length of it whenever his lips moved up, while the other pressed down onto Mikhail’s abs – as if he wanted to feel the muscles tense or as if he wanted to keep the Russian down like that.

“Fei Long…”, Mikhail hissed and the other looked up between the strands of his abysmally black hair with cheeks red and puffy, with eyes dark with lust, wet from the effort and dilated from the arousal.

At that moment for the second time on this day all self-control snapped within Mikhail. His hand darted up, caught Fei Long’s forehead and forced it up and away from his cock. For a moment the Chinese didn’t even seem to realize it. He gasped in the air like a fish out of water and only then opened his eyes again, looking up at Mikhail in confusion, or even disappointment that he had been stopped doing what he clearly had enjoyed very much. Mikhail however did not find any strength in himself anymore to feel sorry for Fei Long’s loss, nor to hold back from what he craved the most. “Your expression”, he snarled, sitting himself up and still holding the other man firmly by the forehead. “To show such an erotic face while giving head…”

Fei Long blinked at him, panting slightly and trying to catch his breath through clenched teeth, his eyes still dark and wet and seeming somewhat absent-minded.

“I can’t wait any longer”, Mikhail proclaimed leaning in so close he could see the dampness on the long black lashes. Then he let go of the other man’s head, grabbed him by the arm and slammed him into the bed next to himself. A blink later Mikhail was on top and had opened Fei Long’s dress trousers with impatient fingers.

It had taken less time than for Fei Long to realize what had happened and when he finally stirred, trying to get up, Mikhail grabbed the back of his head forcing him into the pillow, while pushing down the man’s pants all the way to his knees.

Fei Long struggled and Mikhail kept him pinned down with only one hand grabbing his hair, knowing that the Chinese could muster much more strength than what he was showing here – and that the Russian would probably still be able to subdue him like this, in this position. Moving quickly Mikhail placed himself between Fei Long’s legs, forcing his knees open with his own, pushing down his own pants.

“Too… soon…”, Fei Long breathed, when Mikhail – still holding his head pinned to the bed – spread his cheeks with the other hand and then slammed into him. A scream escaped the Chinese’s throat half muffled by the lush, thick pillow, when Mikhail was already pulling out, only to bury himself deep into the other’s body again with one long forceful thrust.

He let go of Fei Long’s head at that point, straightened up and gabbed the other by his narrow waist. Several times the Chinese hissed loudly just like the dragon he was said to be, while Mikhail pounded into him, his fingers clenching at the sheets, but no complains, no attempts to get away. And only moments later the Russian wasn’t sure anymore whether he was holding Fei Long by his waist to hinder him from fleeing and to set up a rhythm as steady and deep as that, or whether he was preventing himself from being pushed away – because now Fei Long kept slamming his hips back into him, meeting each and every thrust more viciously than the one before.

Mikhail could already feel his body nearing the point of oblivion when the other man started to move beneath him to change his position – and he welcomed it, no matter how hard it was for him to break the rhythm and to still his lust for a few moments, because otherwise this would have been over any second now.

Fei Long straightened up, pushing the shirt that had already become damp with sweat around his body and clung to his skin, off, then tried to move his pants further down. When he didn’t manage alone, Mikhail leaned in to help him, but the combined weight made them loose their balance and they tumbled forward, slamming into the bad once again and Mikhail’s cock thrust so deep into the other’s tightness that Fei Long shrieked in pain. But even this didn’t make him hesitate. He slipped his pants and underwear off his long legs, with Mikhail catching a hold of both at the last moment and flinging them around the room just like he had before with any other piece of cloth. Then he pushed away his own pants, while grabbing Fei Long around the waist with one arm, pulling him close enough to probably squeeze all air from the lean, slim body. He just didn’t want him to get away.

Then he already pulled him back into place, now both of them fully naked, grasped him by the hips once more and slammed into Fei Long again, forcing load moans out of himself and the other with each and every movement now.

Fei Long however did not stay down. He straightened up again and Mikhail caught him with both arms, pulling him close, the Chinese’s back pressed against his chest, the sweat tickling down their skin and making them stick it other, while the sounds of their movements and their panting and moaning filled the room – probably being heard in the neighboring rooms as well.

Soon Mikhail felt the burning of oblivion building up inside him again. His strong arms crushed themselves even closer around the other man, and when Fei Long fought for the breath to speak, Mikhail feared that he would ask him to let go, to go slower.

But he didn’t. “More”, Fei Long panted.

“Deeper. Harder!”

And Mikhail couldn’t keep himself from chuckling.

“Ok”, he answered, pushing his knees on which he balanced further forward and apart, forcing Fei Long’s that way as well. Now he could move his hips even fiercer back and forth, crushing his cock into the hot, burning heat. With his hands he held the other man in place, twirling the fingers of one hand around one of those small hard nipples, while with the other he forced the Chinese’s head a bit towards himself. Small tears of pain and pleasure were streaming down Fei Long’s cheeks, which where puffy and red, his lips swollen and fighting for each sip of breath.

“Harder!”, he whispered again, when Mikhail started to nip on his neck. So, he bit down and at that moment Fei Long came without his cock ever having been touched once. All along the lean body in his arms Mikhail could feel the heavy twitching of the orgasm run up and down, and he held Fei Long even closer when for a few moments he seemed to go limp, overpowered by the spasms of lust coursing through him.

When he could support himself again, Fei Long leaned back, forcing Mikhail to come to sit on his heels with the other man on top of him. Moving up and down violently, Fei Long started to ride his cock, spreading his thighs wider and wider. Then suddenly the Chinese’s hand shot up, grabbing Mikhail’s hair at the back of his head, forcing his lips even harder onto his neck, allowing him to bite even deeper. A bit more and Mikhail was sure he would draw blood, while Fei Long was clamping his insides down on him, whenever he moved down on his manhood. The thought alone finally made the inferno inside him burst into white oblivion. Mikhail grabbed a fist of Fei Long’s hair, pulled his head back and crushed his lips onto the other man’s, moaning and grunting his orgasm into the other’s throat while releasing his cum buried deep inside the other’s body.

When he regained consciousness a while later, he was sure he had nearly suffocated. White noise filled his ears, little sparkles were swimming in his sight, when he opened his eyes. He found himself on top of Fei Long, whom he had crushed into the sheets face down, and from what he could tell the other was as well heavily occupied with trying to catch a breath. Dimly did the room’s lighting shimmer in the sweat on both their skin.

“You’re heavy”, Fei Long whispered after a few minutes, his voice still ragged between gasps for air. Mikhail sighed and moved but merely a bit - only enough that he would not lie anymore on top of the other man, but slightly next to him. Still, he could bury his face in the damp, silken midnight of his hair, feel the heat from the other’s body, listen even to the man’s heartbeat while his own was in likewise turmoil. And this time Fei Long did not complain, did not pull away, did not move as far away on the bed as possible, like he had the last time, getting up just moments later when Mikhail had nearly fallen asleep. This time the Chinese beauty just lay there, his gasps for air slowly subsiding, his head not shrugging to pull his hair out of Mikhail’s reach. And Mikhail watched him, breathing in the scent of his hair and the fragrances of sex that filled the room.

He woke up when the sun was already trying to pierce through the heavy clouds harassing Hong Kong. Without realizing his hand darted out to the other side of the bed on which Fei Long had slept for hours, nearly never moving, his breathing almost inaudible. Mikhail had awoken a few times, only for moments, had pulled the blanket above both of them, had switched off the lights at some point, and had watched the beautiful dragon in all his peace, resting finally. Each time when he had opened his eyes, Fei Long had been there and the night had still been upon them.

But now it was gone, his hand did not find anything searching the other side of the bed, his quiet question “Fei Long?” did not receive any answer, and Mikhail sat up with a sigh. All about the room there was no sign of the Chinese. His clothes were gone from wherever they had been tossed last night, and Mikhail was sure that he needn’t look around the corner towards the door to be sure that the other man’s coat and jacket were gone as well, because the door to the bathroom stood open and in there, there was no movement.

His own clothing however had been folded and put onto the nightstand.

“Seriously…”, Mikhail laughed to himself, combing through his disheveled hair with his fingers. “He’s just like a cat…”

It was a funny thought. And though it hurt to just being left like this again, his heart didn’t allow itself to sink. For last night Fei Long had turned to him, and Mikhail knew what it meant, while he laid back down. Fei Long trusted him… maybe even had put some believe in him. He had allowed to be there with Mikhail as himself, had allowed himself to be touched, to be held, had slept next to him.

The one man in the whole of Hong Kong, in all of Asia perhaps – in all the world even maybe - who could literally have had anyone else without fearing or suffering or even dreading any consequences had turned to him. The one man he wanted more than anything else had decided to be with him, if only for one night.

And Mikhail could not help himself counting this a small, faint triumph. He had in some way grazed Fei Long’s glacier of self-defense and insecurity, behind which the man hid his emotions and hunger for life.

While his hand glided over the empty space on the bed next to him, where the warmth of Fei Long had long been lost – while he slowly slipped into sleep again - Mikhail decided that he would say it once. There and then, where nobody witnessed it, and nobody could laugh at him: “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Continued in ['Shards and Debris'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661576)


End file.
